


The Fox and the Veela

by WDGin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Animagus, BAMF Women, Based on a Tumblr Post, Basically, Drarry?, F/F, F/M, Hermione and Harry grow up together, How Do I Tag, I can't write that lol, I wrote this instead of working on my other WIP, M/M, Minerva McGonagall Raises Harry Potter, One Big Happy Family, Triwizard Tournament, Wholesome af, almost everyone is gay, no smut probably, probably, though it is a fleurmione story, with her wife
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2020-06-27 09:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19787635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WDGin/pseuds/WDGin
Summary: “Petunia, come look at our new neighbors.” “I heard they’re dentists” “Dentists? Very respectable people.” One year later - “Oh? We have new neighbors again.” “Petunia, they’re lesbians!” The Grangers move to Privet drive, as does another certain couple. In media res for chapter one, set in 4th year. It's gay and wholesome. That's it, that's the story.





	1. Wand Malfunctions

Hermione Granger studied the figure in front of her. She was sitting on the floor, facing the full length mirror in the dorm room. Either Lavender or Parvati had brought it, probably the former. She couldn’t help but stare and stare, appraising the new features intimately. This was her; a tiny semi-white furball. And it was her first time actually seeing herself in this particular form. 

It was a Saturday. It had been such a lovely day so far, given the start of colder weather, and Hermione was spending it in her dormitory. At the moment anyways. She’d woken up unusually early and had gone to breakfast before Lavender and Parvati could even think about getting dressed. She had been in the middle of enjoying the walk back when a rather sudden thought popped into her head, disturbing all the other thoughts and ideas floating about. 

She had yet to see herself with what she deemed her winter coat. So she had raced down the stairs and proceeded to slow her gait so as to not attract much attention. She managed to glimpse her roommates as they were headed to the Great Hall, so there was some more relief there. And now she was here, smaller and more fragile. 

Her roommates were often in the room when Hermione was and left when she left. Coincidence? Perhaps, but it irritated Hermione on the occasions that she wanted some  _ privacy _ , which was vastly  _ different _ from peace and silence - a simple silencing charm around her poster bed would suffice. Her wand lay next to her, useless at the moment, save for a  _ Sensorem _ Hermione had cast beforehand on the door and adjacent hallway. It would vibrate to alert her of any incoming and unexpected guests. 

For now, however, she was alone. She curled up, unexpectedly enjoying the comfort her snowy tail provided as she rested her head on it. She thought she might’ve looked like a tiny dog, were it not for the snout. Though short, it still managed to come across as delightfully and most certainly  _ foxlike _ . Her head was still a rather dark color, as were her forelegs.  _ Half and half _ , she thought, rather amused. The fur around her face was beginning to change to white so she looked rather grey. Though she seemed to have some pseudo eyebrows and she squeaked in laughter. 

With all her fur puffing up, her ears looked roundish and small. They swiveled this way and that as she listened intently to the most innocent of sounds. The whispering wind outside, the cackling creak of Parvati’s open window moving about. 

She stood up then, moving forward until her wet nose touched the mirror and left a mark. Her eyes were what fascinated her this time. The contrast between her winter coat and her ochre eyes was striking. Thin slits were placed in the middle of honeyed eyes.  _ Almost like ants in amber _ , she thought vaguely, awed and amazed at her newfound form. No wonder Fleur liked to search for her amongst the trees and newly fallen snow. She (really) liked to jump, so it was a game of hers to attempt to surprise the older student. 

She was in the process of lifting a greyed paw to the mirror when her wand began to vibrate, effectively startling her. She’d have a few seconds at most, half a minute at best. She reached over to touch her wand but it skittered past among the floorboards when she touched it. No use crying about it, she wouldn’t be able to hold it at the moment anyways. 

Instead, she ran to her poster bed and crouched in preparation for a high jump (which she was rather capable of, she had delightfully discovered). Once on the bed, she concentrated on trying to get back to her human form, ignoring the other stimuli that were quickly approaching. It took a second or two longer in her mild panic but she reappeared sitting on the edge of the bed, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She blinked as her eyes landed on her untied left shoe. She crouched down on the floor as she tied it and the girls finally came bursting through the door. 

“-and then he said-”

“-Hermione? What’re you doing on the floor?” Parvati interrupted what was probably a  _ most _ riveting conversation, courtesy of Lavender. 

“Oh. I, um.. dropped my wand,” she replied, attempting to shuffle around and look as though she was indeed looking for it. “Dragon heartstring, you know how it is.” 

They did know how it was. There were a few times that they had seen her wand ‘act up’, so to say. Although dragonheart string was temperamental on its own, Hermione’s hazel wood tended to exacerbate a few of the flare ups. Though this typically happened when Hermione was mad at Ron or frustrated with schoolwork. 

Parvati eyed the floor and spotted the intricate carving of her roommate’s wand to her left. She crouched down to pick it up and was greeted with some sort of electrifying caress that went up her arm before it disappeared into smaller tingles. Eyes wide, she nearly dropped it again in her surprise. Merlin, that was new! She had once touched Hermione’s wand after its owner had a spat with Ron and was greeted with a… push that time, not dissimilar to a slap. She glanced over at Hermione with the beginnings of a hunch. She seemed neither upset, nor annoyed with homework, this time. Interesting. 

Hermione watched the transaction with curiosity, mumbling a “Sorry about that,” when she saw startled expression on Parvati’s face. She stood up, dusting herself off as she did so, and took her wand with a grateful smile. 

Shoot. Privacy no more, Hermione made the executive and predictable decision of going to the library. She gathered up her book bag and stuffed whatever book that was lying on the bed inside of it. “Well, I’m-”

“Off to the library?”

“Yes,” Hermione replied automatically and blushed lightly at her roommate’s question. She just wanted some quiet place to be and this was neither quiet nor secluded at the moment. For once in her life, she was unsure about going to the library. Two particular Triwizard Champions were frequently at the library; as were their ever growing fans, something that irritated Hermione to no end. Couldn’t they observe their targets elsewhere? Why the library not sacred!? 

No, of course not. Despite this, she sympathized with both Victor and Fleur. She had seen them sitting in new locations at various times. One time they had even sat together, looking as though they were in deep discussion. This fueled the fans for days and Hermione had avoided the library for a short time after that memorable occurrence. 

She had thought about asking Fleur about it but in the end, she had deemed it none of her business - curiosity be damned. If Fleur wanted to volunteer that information, that was on her. 

With all of her important items in hand, she waved at her roommates and left the room. Library. If not the library then where? Her lips inched downwards as she thought back to Parvati’s innocent comment, a furrow forming in between her brows. She was predictable! Though the thought normally would not have bothered her (she loved routine after all), it did so now. Ron’s words over the years came back to her in that following moment and she stalked forward faster. 

She could.. She could be spontaneous! Anyone catching a glimpse of the irritated Hermione would’ve noticed how a few tendrils of curls were floating, maybe even crackling slightly. Hermione remained oblivious as she worked herself into a mood. 

Hogsmeade! That’s what she decided on. And seeing how she was heading in the opposite direction, she turned abruptly. It was a few steps in this direction before she turned a corner and a warm body collided with her. She scrunched her eyes shut and bunched up her shoulders in anticipation. She started to fall forward but was steadied by firm hands on her shoulders. Unfortunately, the other person seemed unprepared for her momentum and they teetered backwards for one long moment. Feeling that, Hermione blindly reached out and grasped whatever she found in an attempt to stabilize them both.  _ Elbows _ , she thought, but she hasn’t opened her eyes yet.

“Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry!” She finally opened her eyes now and found herself dangerously close to Fleur Delacour’s lovely face. She flushed instantly (she can feel it on the tips of her ears) due to their proximity. 

“Bonjour Hermione,” Fleur greeted her, a little too cheerful perhaps and with a smile as though Hermione hadn’t just barreled into her. Neither girl had yet let go, Hermione noticed. She let go of Fleur’s elbows as though they burned her. And now her fingers were curled loosely and her arms were hanging in the air in front of her and Hermione thought she must look ridiculous. 

Fleur’s arms slid down from their position on her shoulders down to the crook of her elbows. “Relax,” she squeezed in what she hoped was a comforting gesture before letting go. 

“Oh, but I just crashed into you! I’m sorry,” Hermione again apologized. She felt rather embarrassed. She’s only ever bumped into people a handful of times and never like this. It was common knowledge that Hermione could walk around Hogwarts with her nose buried in a book and not stumble into students and ghosts alike. Unbeknownst to Ron, Hermione probably knew about as many secret passages ways and empty classrooms as Fred and George did. Harry had more than a strong notion that she did. 

_ “Ma ch _ _ é _ _ rie, _ I’m fine, am I not?” Fleur spread her arms wide to show Hermione that absolutely no damage had been done. 

“Well I suppose so,” Hermione mumbled and scrunched up her nose slightly in confusion. 

And there it was again! A nickname! Hermione’s blush that was beginning to die down flared up again. Early on since meeting, Fleur had begun with the nicknames and terms of endearment and would gauge the younger girl’s reaction to them. Fleur seemed to have more than an inkling that her brunette counterpart knew some French. And that was a fair assumption -- Hermione would hum in agreement or make noise in disagreement when Fleur would comment about something or other in French. 

Hermione had gone to France just last year and like most other academic things she did, she threw herself into the language headfirst. Her parents had been more than willing to indulge her request that they only speak in French in the afternoons when they were  _ just _ beginning to learn. Dinner was a quiet affair until their vocabulary grew. Hermione was the one who wanted to learn the language, even before their plans of such a trip were finalized. And when they went to visit the French branch of Grangers, Hermione was happily chattering away with cousins her age. She felt included and a part of something; it was a rather nice feeling. 

Still, there were some items to be excluded; such as idioms and phrases, pet names too. Why would she need to know those when most likely she would be asking for directions and how much something cost? It was only now that she had run into this charming French girl that she regretted not learning such phrases. She’d have to owl her parents for her phrase book or an idiom dictionary. 

“See? No harm done,” the blonde witch insisted and continued teasing as they walked, “So what is Hermione doing out of the library today?”

Said girl scowled again briefly, Parvati’s words coming to mind. She faced Fleur with a determined smile and upraised eyebrows, “I’m being spontaneous.” 

“Oh? So you don’t always crash into pretty girls?” Fleur kept ambling along at their current and easy pace. If there was any indication that she noticed that Hermione had stopped abruptly, she didn’t show it. 

“What? No! Of course not. It’s only you, anyways.” Fleur’s a friend now, she can say that, right? She takes a moment to think of all the people she’s recently crashed into. While she can navigate Hogwarts perfectly, she could not say the same for other people. Parkinson when Hermione had come speeding out from a shortcut. Cho Chang had bumped into her once when Hermione’s stack of books had become precariously tall and blocked her vision. At least she had helped to pick them up. Colin Creevey had blinded her with his camera’s flash and she had tripped over his small body. Draco whenever he pulled a trick. There, she crashed into boys, not just pretty girls. Too deep in her thoughts, she almost missed what Fleur had to say when she tuned back in. 

“Ah, I see, I see,” Fleur nodded sagely when Hermione caught up to her, “You’ve made it a habit to crash into me.”

“No, no. That’s not what I meant either. Stop teasing, you-you...you fiend!” Hermione lightly slapped Fleur’s shoulder but at least she was laughing now, Fleur happily observed. She had wondered if Hermione was upset, with the way she had knocked the taller witch over easily. 

“A fiend? What’s that?” The blonde witch was going to reply with something more...witty, but the unknown word had thrown her off. She could guess, of course, or look it up later but Hermione was here. The most adorable walking encyclopedia. 

“Well, it’s a tall blonde person who teases younger girls relentlessly,” Hermione cleverly responded, unsure of how Fleur could possibly twist those words around to make a joke. 

“Younger girls?” Fleur feigned a thoughtful look, complete with a little chin rubbing. “Ah! You mean Gabrielle. Why, yes, of course but only when a prank of hers goes wrong.” 

Cheeky witch. Hermione made sure Fleur was looking at her when she gave her a massive eye roll. Now it was Fleur’s turn to playfully scold Hermione. “Now, now Hermione, that’s just bad manners.”

It probably was. She might’ve picked it up from Vanessa. She was the spunkier of her two aunts. 

_ Ouch. _ The bushy haired witch brought a hand to her chest, where her cardigan opened up. 

Instantly, Fleur looked concerned, stooping slightly to attempt to check her out for any visible troubles. “ _ Mon amie _ , what’s wrong?”

In lieu of an answer, Hermione unbuttoned the first button on her sweater and reached in. She pulled out her wand from a sewn in pocket. It vibrated slightly, practically demanding an outlet of sorts for all of its energy. Fleur looked on quizzically, but with less concern as Hermione didn’t seem to be in immediate danger. 

The owner thought it had already discharged its leftover energy when Parvati picked it up. Oh well. “C’mon on, then.” She gave it a swish and a flourish, happy colorful sparks leaving the tip of her wand as she did so. 

“I suppose even my wand thinks it’s bad manners.” She rolls her eyes again but less in an exaggeration and more good naturedly. Her wand doesn’t act up this time. 

“Does it do that often?” 

“Hm? Oh, yes. Dragonheart string and hazel wood make for a fiery personality.” She wondered what set it off this time while she stored it back into its designated pocket. And in doing so, was finally reminded of what she was doing before Fleur crashed into her. 

“Fleur?”

“Oui?” said witch looked up attentively at the drop of her name. 

Hermione paused, debating how to phrase it. She was known for her bluntness so might as well use that to her advantage. “I was heading to Hogsmeade when you  _ crashed _ into me. Would you... like to accompany me?”

“Oui, I’d love to. Are you going to give me the grand tour?”

“I’m sure you’ve already been...” Hermione waved off her inquisition. 

“Yes, maybe so, but I have not had the  _ Hermione Tour. _ ”

“Oh, stop that.” Bashful, it was now Hermione’s turn to speed up and leave Fleur behind. 

There was a silence as her blonde counterpart caught up with her before Fleur responded. “I accept your apology, by the way.”

“Apology? What apology?” Her voice had reached a higher pitch as she sounded rather incredulous, the French girl thought with no shortage of glee. 

“For crashing into me, of course. And now you’re taking me to Hogsmeade as an apology. How charming!”

Fleur was careful to hide her smile, biting down on her bottom lip as she heard Hermione sputter at Fleur’s gall to insinuate that this may or may not be an apology date. 

000

  
A/N - Apologies to those waiting for chapter 9 of UL. I started a WIP while I still had another WIP. I have big plans (smaller than UL but big nonetheless) for this fic and it’s going to be  _ wholesome _ af. Not here for too much drama/angst. This was merely a taste to hook you all in. Next chapter shall take place at the very beginning and continue on from there. This is an AU, if that wasn’t clear yet. I shall reveal details of the AU next chapter. Fleur/Hermione in case y’all thought they were just ‘gal pals.’ I have some other ships in mind but nothing set in stone. Apologies to those hoping for quick updates. This is my side project to my other fic but rest assured that it won’t be dropped. Leave a comment, maybe? Enjoy!


	2. The Pacifier

“Darling?”

“Yes?”

“How about this house?”

“Oh, no, no. I don’t like how it looks. Besides, we agreed in  _ this _ general neighborhood. It’s much closer to your practice and the hospital.”

“Alright, alright. Just checking.” The husband, Lawrence Granger, smiled lovingly at his wife’s antics. His staring was further interrupted by a piercing cry. 

“My turn?”

A pointed look was sent in his direction. He went off in the direction of the cries. Upon reaching his daughter, he picked her up to soothe her. When his rocking motions did nothing to appease her, he realized the problem. “Dropped your binky, did you? There, there, Hermione. I’ve got you.”

He continued to speak in soft dulcet tones at the tiny little thing in his arms, mumbling random tidbits of knowledge when he ran out of normally comforting words to say. She finally quieted down when he retrieved her favourite bit of silicone. She looked at him with large brown eyes. Was she staring? Was she able to see faces yet? He didn’t think so, as babies had blurry vision for their first few months, but sometimes he liked to pretend that she did. And Hermione had been born slightly prematurely, which was why they had to postpone moving into a new house. She must’ve been excited to come to the world, they liked to joke. 

The house they had initially been eyeing had been taken off the market after the birth, forcing them to look at more houses. No biggie. He just wanted a small yard for Hermione to play and find little adventures in. The neighborhood they were especially close to choosing had a playground nearby. Privet Drive. Little Whinging, Surrey. He wondered just what awaited them in the near future. 

When she popped the binky out, she didn’t cry this time. She continued to stare and even managed to mimic her father’s expression when he smiled widely. 

000

“Diana, darling?”

She gave a noise of confirmation to show that she heard him but didn’t turn away from what she was doing. “Have you seen Hermione’s binky?”

She froze immediately, fingers ghosting over the flaps of the box on the table. She turned to give him a concerned look, “No?”

He grimaced. Today was the day. Moving day. Well, no, not exactly. The family moving company that they had hired had already moved most of their furniture and appliances. Diana had been driving between the houses and setting up the important items. The workers from the company had certainly done their job well. Their bed and crib had been moved today, making it the final part of the moving. Things were expected to get lost, he knew this, and yet… he thought he had set aside the sacred green object. “Maybe it’s in the other house? In the car?” she offered. 

Though several months older now (a year old now!), his daughter's love for that particular binky had not waned in the slightest. Any other type of binky had been rejected swiftly. Hermione was thankfully otherwise occupied for most of the day. A few more hours passed in a similar fashion until they loaded up the last few boxes. While Diana was carefully rearranging their possessions in the back so as not to fall on their child, Lawrence was walking around with Hermione carefully bundled up in his arms. 

“Say goodbye to the bathroom!” The baby stayed silent, hickory eyes leisurely wandering through the empty walls. 

“Say goodbye to the kitchen!” No response. 

Once he completed the rest of his goodbyes, he walked outside. He spun in a few slow circles and rocked Hermione from side to side. “Say goodbye to the house Hermione!” 

Finally  _ (finally!) _ she laughed at his motions and he grabbed her grubby little fist to shake at the house. He saw a flash from the side. “Another one woman!” He posed for Diana’s camera and attempted to turn his daughter as well, but now that the house had captivated her attention, she refused to look away. To remedy this, Diana simply got in front of the house and the camera flashed once again. 

“We’re framing that one.”

Again, Hermione was mercifully quiet. She really was a quiet child, beyond her baby fits of laughter, crying, and the in-between. It was only when they got to the house that they were reminded of the missing binky. 

“The car?” Diana offered, continuing to rock a now whimpering Hermione in their now empty living room. Poor thing had tired herself out. 

“I’ll go check,” Lawrence acquiesced, thinking back to how they had emptied the car. After a thorough check, he could still hear her, though the sound was starting to taper off. Then he spotted it, his coat! He pulled it free from its hanging spot on the seat. He frantically checked the pockets and gave a whoop of joy when he pulled the damned thing out. He raced back to the house. 

“Found it!” he whisper yelled at seeing his wife’s finger over her lip. Hermione was no longer crying and she continued to sway in place. She headed up the stairs to put her to bed and then he saw it. A green object, identical to the one in his hand, was in Hermione’s mouth. He stared dumbfounded until his wife reached the room. Then he stared some more at the binky in his hand. 

“It’s been a long day,” he mumbled. Too long and now he was tired from all the moving around. Lifting and lowering boxes all day, that had to be it. He observed the treasure item in his hand closer. It was her favorite. But if Hermione wasn’t crying at the moment, then it surely was identical. She only ever wanted  _ that _ one. He wondered when Diana bought another one, though there was a niggle in the back of his head.  _ That can’t be right _ , it seemed to say. 

It’s been a long day, he decided. 

000

Vernon Dursley was a predictable man. He didn’t really like change, unless it was for a promotion or some other occasion that worked to his advantage. 

The only good thing change had brought was his Petunia. His lovely flower. He was sitting in his office at Grunnings and contemplated the good news of the day, nay, of his life. Petunia was pregnant. Just a few weeks now, she’d assumed. He chuckled to himself at the happy thought. He would be sure to yell extra loud in the office today. It’s such a glorious day that he was sure to buy  _ two _ donuts during his lunch break. 

So swept up in the news, he almost missed the moving truck two houses down when he drove home that afternoon. That truck had been there everyday for almost a week now, appearing full of boxes and disappearing when the truck was empty. There was something different in the departure of the truck at the moment. A grey car took its place. 

He watched with no small amount of nosiness as he stepped out of the car and headed toward the door at a snail’s pace. They seemed to be a couple fretting over a fussy baby. They looked like they would fit right into the neighborhood.  _ Normal. Successful. _ Though he thought about that old spinster, Mrs.Figg, and conceded that there were oddities in his neighborhood. 

He thought of his future child. Taking out his keys, he watched as they came out of the house and went back inside.  _ No matter _ , he thought, clicking the deadbolt and opening the door. He would ask Petunia if she knew anything their new neighbors. She usually knew about the less visible on goings in the vicinity. Once inside he gave no more thoughts to anything beyond the confines of the house. 

“Petunia, come look at our new neighbors.”

“I heard they’re dentists…” she trailed off, distracted. 

He was in the process of leaving behind his work and continued with, ”Dentists? Very respectable people. Glad to see  _ proper _ people in our neighborhood! What kind of environment is our child going to grow up in, with all those odd people that move in? Dentists! At least that’s -”

He realized his wife wasn’t agreeing nor disagreeing with him. What was she doing? He shrugged off his heavy outerwear on his way to the kitchen from the living room. 

Petunia was seated, elbows resting on the kitchen counter top. She was holding something in her hands, reading it perhaps? Coupons from the nearby grocery stores? No, it looked more like a letter. He narrowed his eyes, spotting tears accumulating in her eyes. “Petunia?”

“It’s Lily.”

“What about her?” he asked gruffly. Oh yes, he remembered that crack pot  _ magician _ of Lily’s. Thinking about that fool now worked him up quite a bit.

“They could grow up together,” she whispered, as though any louder and the reality would shatter. “She’s pregnant.”

At those words, she stood up suddenly, throwing the letter to the table. She harshly wiped at her eyes and proceeded to continue fixing up the rest of their dinner. Dumbfounded at the switch, he simply went along with it. It must be the hormones, he thought. If she was going to drop it just like that, he certainly wasn’t going to pick up the topic again. She liked to pretend that she didn’t have a sister and Vernon would comply. He would comply because that Potter boy and his kind were as abnormal as could be, far from the absolutely normal Dursleys. 

He let it go because the very mention of it made his wife upset. Instead he named his son Dudley when he was born. He didn’t bring it up when he thought Petunia had mailed a vase to them over Christmas. Dudley was a few months old at the time and absolutely perfect, both of his parents agreed. Sometimes he would catch his wife staring at their son, deep in thought. They had gotten announcements of their nephew’s birth a few weeks after Dudley was born. Petunia didn’t look twice at it when it arrived through the mail but sometimes he did wonder if she looked at it while he was gone. 

As his son got bigger so did the tiny toddler a few houses down. He was still unsure if it was a boy or a girl, with a mop of curls being the only visible thing under thick coats, but he (and Petunia) would sometimes watch the Grangers try to coax the child into walking out on their lawn. It often seemed like the Grangers were walking a bright marshmallow in between them rather than a child. 

  
  
  


The Grangers were glad that the holiday season was over. Diana set up the tree while Lawrence decorated it. They packed up the tree as soon as they could given that Hermione loved to shuffle over to the tree and pick at the round ornaments. They ended up switching the lower fragile ornaments with a new set that was covered in a sort of soft but firm material. Those didn’t break, no matter how hard Hermione would chuck them. They thought the tree and presents would be a great memory for their photo album, and thus, loads of pictures were taken. 

  
9/6/19 A/N - So when I said the beginning, I meant the very beginning. I managed to track down the original prompt from  _ uncontinuous _ on tumblr, if y'all wanna go track it down. Key words to search are uncontinuous, McGonagall, and lesbian lol Basically McG moves next door to the Dursleys, with her wife. But since this is a Fleurmione story, I've obviously made some changes. Busy with school but this chapter was mostly done anyways so here it is. The chapters will probably be around 2k or so. I'd really like to thank everyone who followed/favorited/reviewed! I'm always a bit late to fandoms so I'm glad to see that people are enjoying this. That's all for today, leave a comment maybe? ps the xmas thing really happened haha 


	3. I Spy with My Little Eye

Winter turned to spring, and with it, Hermione shed all those stuffy jackets. The scarves sometimes stayed on, so did the beanies, but never both in childish capriciousness. She'd pull one or the other off. A year and a half and Hemione was finally starting to mimic words and sounds. _Ma_ and _Da_ being the most frequent ones but _ya_ and _na_ were both close contenders. More words were starting to follow. It helped that Diana would ask for Hermione's opinion on things and repeat the words for everyday items as she used them.

Little Hermione was certainly enjoying the cheerful everyday delights of childhood. One could not say the same for another young boy.

It was an extremely ordinary day, the exact kind of day that the Dursleys liked. Good weather, good behavior from Dudley and a possible deal for Vernon. The Grangers also thought it was a mighty fine day in October. Doctors Granger and Granger each left to their own respective practices. Lawrence to his new dental office and Diana to the hospital. Or at least, this would've been their routine had Diana not taken the weekend off. Instead, she thought up of various activities to busy both herself and her young daughter with.

It was later that evening that found them both watching a movie and munching on their respective snacks. Ice cream for Missus Granger and a baby biscuit for Hermione's _nearly_ full set of teeth. Not only were her gums a little sore (molars!), but she was also in the stage where she thought that biting down on everything was incredible fun. By now Hermione could most certainly walk, and walk she did.

But as it was, Hermione was just beginning to doze off when brilliant lights lit up the night sky. She startled. So did Diana, who was not expecting this display. She turned towards her daughter, "Do you want to go see what that is? Let's go look at the lights, sweetie."

Hand in hand, they stepped out to the front of their house and observed the night sky. Another round of lights filled the air. Blues, greens, reds. The occasional purple and pink. Diana was bewildered. It was very amazing and noteworthy but highly unusual. It was October 31st, yes, but Halloween wasn't nearly as popular in Britain as it was in the United States. They could see some neighbors peeking out of their doors and windows. The Grangers brought out some blankets, set them up, and laid down on them, watching the eye catching display. They remained that way until Lawrence came back from buying some groceries after his work. He joined them after he was done.

"Bit unusual, innit?" He asked quietly, seeing as his daughter had again nodded off.

"Very. Looks rather nice though. What do you think it is?"

"Well, I dunno. I'm not sure what to make of it. It's not just here either. I could see 'em all the way from my practice and at the store some minutes away." He scratched at the short stubble of his beard in thought.

They folded up their blankets and carried them and Hermione back inside, ready to settle in for the night. Their neighbors two houses down, the Dursleys, were not having as great a night as theirs. When the light show had gone on, Petunia and Vernon had been peeking out of their window surreptitiously. They were slightly appalled that their normal neighbors were interested in such a display.

And if their little Dudley was entertained, well, that's because he didn't know any better. Come to think of it, none of their neighbors knew any better save for Petunia, who had told Vernon. They retired to bed early since even the very thought of _magic_ put Petunia (which put Vernon) in a foul mood.

Shame on the neighbors!

Despite going to bed in a terrible mood, the Dursleys did not wake up as such. In fact, it was another perfectly normal day. Or it would've been. Breakfast was made, Dudley was fed, Vernon was off to work. As Petunia kissed her husband goodbye, she spotted a grey tabby cat watching her from the middle of their green lawn.

She said nothing to Vernon but once he was gone, she approached the cat in quick steps, wanting to scare it off with the sudden movement. When that didn't work, she stopped a few steps from the cat, bent over slightly and hissed, "Shoo! Go on!"

When that also failed to produce any results, Petunia pursed her lips and stared at the cat from where she stood. Amber eyes stared eerily back. The cat didn't move a muscle.

In fact…

Petunia didn't think she saw it move in their entire exchange. It was… not normal. Unnaturally so. Metaphorical bells started to ring inside her head. She straightened up from her position with such a speed that it was a marvel that her back failed to pop. She eyed the creature in familiar suspicion. She was about to point a finger and give it a stern talking to when she realized how that would look.

Petunia Dursley, the most normal of neighbors, talking to a cat on her lawn in the early hours of the morning. Absurd! Giving the cat her most withering glare (the ocher abyss stared right back), she turned around and headed straight back into the house, mumbling about the _unnaturalness of that cat_ and how _their kind_ was going to haunt her.

Fortunately for the silver tabby, Dudley screamed for his mother's attention soon after she shut the door closed, making her forget all about drawing the curtains shut.

A stone gargoyle coming to life, the tabby moved across the lawn quick as silver. A better watching spot would suffice if that's how Petunia would react every time she was spotted.

And so, Minerva McGonagall observed. She caught Dudley's tantrums through the window, and even heard it from across the street. However, that wasn't saying much as her senses were enhanced in her current form. Or was it? That boy certainly had a set of lungs. She was up on the roof (sunbathing, though she would deny it if pressed), where she could hear Petunia going about her business in the house but also the neighbors'. The window would open and close, the hedges would brush against each other as Petunia tried to spy on the neighbors without giving herself away. Another tantrum from Dudley. She leapt off the roof, onto the hedges, and onto the empty property next door.

It seemed identical to all the other houses in the vicinity. In fact, it was. Same color, same architectural plans, same lawn. She magically opened a window (she may've been in her animagus form but _alohomora_ was a simple spell for her, even without a wand) and took refuge from the sun for the time being. She silently explored the house. She may or may not have jumped onto the kitchen counter. Going from room to room she tried to imagine how the inside of the Dursley house would look like but gave up quickly enough.

Exiting through the same window she came from, she repeated the same jump as before to the roof of the vacant building. Flattening herself, she could easily see her target inhabitants from the kitchen window while mostly remaining hidden.

She would continue to watch carefully but her mind was already made up.

These were the worst kind of Muggles.

.

It was dark when Minerva once again changed her spying spot. Her new spot was from across the street, away from the closest streetlight but directly across from 4 Privet Drive. The sky was surprisingly clear, the moon showering any night owls that were out and about with its radiant rays. The Dursleys had long ago gone to bed, and so had the couple on the other side of the unoccupied residence.

The differences between the two families could not have been more striking.

It was by some incredible and severely disappointing stroke of luck that Harry Potter was not related to the family on the right, rather than the one on the left. Minerva was growing more irritated by the minute as she compared the two families. An undercurrent of something was beginning to grow and flow within Minerva's head.

Then, something in the periphery caught her attention. It wasn't something bright or startling in the distance but quite the opposite. Minerva turned her head around to face the direction of the stealthy disturbance and watched as the night seemed to get darker and darker. Instead of feeling unsettled, she felt oddly comforted. There was only one person (that she knew of) that could do what they were doing to the lights from the light posts.

Albus Dumbledore.

Minerva hadn't heard the distinctive pop of apparition but she certainly heard the soft steps as headmaster walked towards her. He continued walking, only stopping when he was opposite from the Dursley's house, just like she was. Hand outstretched, she silently watched as he held the dark green lighter open, the unknown magic calling out to flowy insubstantial wisps of luminescence. _Deluminator_ , he had mentioned to her once. Light seemed to seep away in the periphery of her vision, just as it had before.

Satisfied with the murkiness of the night, Minerva shifted back into her human form, standing next to Albus when the transformation was done. She blinked at one of the temporary residual effects of her animagus form, the ability to see in the dark.

"Oh, hello Minerva. Didn't see you there," Albus greeted her in a low voice, gently smiling at her over his half-moon spectacles.

"Of course you didn't. What gave it away?"

"No other cat would sit so stiffly."

"Hmm."

The corner of his lips inched upwards at her noncommittal reply but then the rest of his smile seemed to gradually disappear as the reason why the both of them are there caught up to them. They stood side by side, turning to face Harry Potter's future house and home. Another moment passed before Albus sighed.

"I wish we were meeting under better circumstances."

"As do I, Albus." She shook her head.

"Lily and James Potter, I'm assuming you've heard rumors?"

"I have," she repeated her earlier action and continued talking, still thinking about the loving family that were most certainly not the Dursleys, "They're not just rumors, are they?"

"No."

Another moment passed as they waited for seemingly nothing. Again Minerva spoke up. Quietly, almost hesitantly, "Albus… do you really think Harry will be safe here?"

"Safe from who? His pureblooded distant relatives that would continuously fight for custody of him? Had the Ministry gotten there before we did, they would've handed him off to the highest bidder. Hidden away, Harry will be much safer from the influences of the Ministry and his distant relatives. Not a soul has a clue about Lily's muggle family. This way he will be much safer from any Death Eaters who wish to seek to retaliate against him for Voldemort's death. I expect to see a trend of rogue Dark Wizards in the coming years."

Minerva flinched at the name. Old habits die hard, it would seem. Part of her question was answered at least. She decided to try again. "But Albus, will Harry be happy here? I've been watching them all day and they seem awful. They're nosy and spy on their neighbors, which leads me to think that they care more about their image and reputation in this neighborhood than anything else." She finished with a huff. She might not have been as close to the Potters as others undoubtedly were but she refused to leave a magical child in the presence of Muggle relatives with rather questionable characters. The Dursleys as though they read off their actions from a script and performed them just as stiffly.

When Dumbledore stayed quiet for a few seconds longer than just an old man collecting his thoughts, Minerva's fears were not assuaged. Finally he spoke up, seeming to struggle in choosing the exact words to say.

"As you know, Lily Evans was a Muggleborn witch. She had a close relationship with her older sister before the discovery of her magical abilities. They wrote to me, you see, asking if Petunia could study at Hogwarts. You know the answer. Anyways… to my knowledge, their relationship never got better before Lily passed but I'm hoping that Petunia will put aside her misgivings about magic to house young Harry and love him as his parents would've. He's the only link to her now and surely that has to count for something."

Come to think of it, Lily probably would've loved Dudley if the roles had been reversed. But Minerva didn't want to think of it because Lily was gone, and Harry was here. The two sisters seemed as different as could be. She recalled Dudley kicking Petunia for sweets and throwing tantrums. Really, what kind of environment would Harry live in?

"How are you going to explain it to them?"

"Well, I've written them a letter."

"A letter?! And just how long is this letter? That's a lot to explain."

"Not as long as you might think. Just the basics."

"The basics? He's famous, that doesn't quite _cover the basics._ "

"Ah, but don't you see? He's famous for something he won't even remember. Every witch and wizard and children will know his name. It's enough to warp anyone's mind. He's a child, Minerva. He doesn't need more burdens. He'll be better off here, not knowing until he's ready."

She could see that Dumbledore had a point. Harry would be better off not knowing he was famous, she could agree with that. But she couldn't agree that Harry would be better off with these relatives. One particular thought struck her mind.

"How is Harry getting here?" she glanced up at Dumbledore. He hadn't moved from his position and seemed to be observing the night sky for something.

"Ah, Hagrid is bringing him."

"Hagrid? Is that...wise?"

Finally he turned to look at her. He gave her a look, "I trust Hagrid with my life."

She nodded but continued with her worries, "I thought you were going for subtlety?" As soon as she had finished talking, she started to hear faint rumbling. "What is that?"

Judging from Dumbledore's blank expression, he had no idea either.

000

2/5/2020 A/N - I am aware that there probably are some inconsistencies with canon, such as Minerva sort of knowing that the Potters were dead? Or something? But also.. Why else would she be watching the Dursleys all day... Some dates might be off, trying my best to keep a straight timeline but at the same time, I don't really care… Headcanons/Fanon are fun. Anyways, here's this chapter since the last one was apparently in September.

Holy cow, thanks to everyone who favorited/reviewed/followed. I'm always happy to see that people enjoy what I write. Leave a comment maybe? Constructive criticism is appreciated!

To my reviewers, I think I figured out the reply system.


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